Year 1 Recap

Time flies so fast, like dried leaves being blown away by the monsoon wind. It seems like only yesterday that I sent my teary-eyed Dearest Daughter to her first day of school. And now it's been almost a year since that first day.

Back then, she and her friends looked like babies. They've grown so much physically since then. And they look so much more mature, though traces of the wide-eyed innocence are still there.

Entering primary school is no small feat for a 6+ year-old. It's the beginning of many things: new friends, new teachers, new environment. It's a major leap from kindergarten where babyish behaviours were tolerated, the teachers were loving, and the environment was protective. At primary school, they are expected to be little adults who can take responsibilities for themselves. No one is going to ensure that they eat their meals. They have to make friends by themselves. They will be punished for wrongdoings. And oh gosh, they will have to change clothing after PE in the filthy toilets! Can their little fingers manouvre the small buttons and zippers?

Primary school is a first big step towards independence.

As parents, we worried about every little thing. Will she eat? Will she have friends? Images of her sitting alone, friendless, danced before my eyes. Will she understand her lessons? Will she be safe, being monitored by just a handful of teachers together with hundreds of other children?

Our foray into DD's primary education was filled will uncertainties and indecisiveness from the beginning. Government school or private school? National-type school of integrated Islamic school? Eventually, we walked the conventional path and DD ends up attending SKTM. Once that was decided, the next decision was between KAFA and private religious education at home. Which KAFA? In the end, we chose the KAFA near our home. Not because of track record of reputation, but simply for convenience.

And convenience is a major factor because of the tight schedule. There's barely one hour of free time between school in the morning and KAFA in the afternoon. And DD is a slowwwww eater. She takes forever to finish her lunch (why does this sound like I'm describing myself when I was a kid? Hmm..). Hence the logical decision is to enrol her in a KAFA nearby so that she could reach the KAFA on time.

DH and I had little inkling of what primary school had in store for our DD. We were shocked by the long list of books, not to mention the wide variety (hopefully our kids will become smarter after using those books), the fees (okay it's not much, but still ...), the lack of homework (DD had more homework when she was in kindy), and how mean a 7 year-old can be. On that last point, I constantly reminded myself not to meddle, or else I too might end up behaving like a 7 year-old.

DD being DD, she took her own sweet time to adapt to primary school life. She didn't care about making friends, never attempting to make the first move to introduce herself to the other kids. The first couple of weeks were the hardest for her, and DH! She would cry in the morning, her big eyes filled with unspoken sorrow. DH would clasp his chest in sadness. It appeared that I was the one who had the heart of stone. Not because I didn't care, but because I figured someone had to be the firm adult in the house and because I knew DD would be alright eventually.

To be continued ...